


Good Night

by rambobulouss



Category: Bad Luck (OC Band), Original Work
Genre: Gen, not sure if its angst but, the people who've read this said it made them sad! thats something
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-11
Updated: 2020-08-11
Packaged: 2021-03-06 01:27:22
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 722
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25841341
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/rambobulouss/pseuds/rambobulouss
Summary: John doesn't take harsh critique very well.





	Good Night

**Author's Note:**

> Again, this is an older fic of mine, but honestly? I'm still proud of it!!! PLEASE if you liked this lmk in comments so I can actually not procrastinate on writing for these guys and get motivation lmao. enjoy!!

The reviews were in; John's song had been a flop. It barely even charted, not to mention the rather harsh criticisms from a multitude of newspapers, magazines, what have you. 'Too pretentious to take seriously' one critic would say, 'Tries to be deep and moving, comes across as dickish' another would write. From article to article, the word spread and the public had made their decision: it was garbage.  
But not to John, not at all. This song was his baby, his idea, his everything. It was the first song he wrote for the band that really meant something to him, it explored sensitive topics and things that were very personal to him. So let's just say he didn't take the reviews very well.  
Correction: he didn't take them well at all.

It was late into the evening, and Nick had just come back to the boy's studio apartment from what would be another unsuccessful date. He didn't know that yet, though.  
The house was dead quiet. Roger and Charlie had gone out and the only other person in the building was John.  
Nick shook off his yellow raincoat and went upstairs, his small hand trailing up the worn bannister, the stairs creaking every time he took a step. But as he was about to bolt for his room, he heard a faint noise coming from John's study room, like a cough or sniffle. The door was slightly ajar, and Nick decided to peer in. At first, he didn't see anything, but then he noticed John lying on the leather couch next to his bed. He was lying on his stomach, face hidden by a throw-pillow that he buried his head into. Nick heard another sniffle.

"... John?" Nick said. No answer. John stayed in the same place, and coughed.  
Nick made his way into the room, noticing that it alot cleaner than usual. Most of the time there were afew shirts or papers strewn across the floor but it was totally spotless.  
As Nick got closer to John, he could hear some heavy breathing, and more sniffles. He gently placed his hand on his back and asked what was wrong.  
John remained immobile, and simply continued to cry. Nick was a little puzzled, until he saw a magazine in John's limp hand. Nick pulled the magazine away, and flipped through the pages until he saw the reason John was crying.

"Another bad review?" Nick said. "John, you shouldn't be letting things like this get to you! What's so bad about-" he stopped when he finished reading the review.

It's quite obvious Wayford doesn't have a knack for doing his own thing. Usually when he collaborates with his bandmates, specifically vocalist Roger Love, he does much better. I want to have faith that Wayford is capable of writing great material without interference from other artists, but this song has given me second thoughts. From how I see it, Wayford is simply not cut out for writing on his own, and if he ever goes solo, I doubt he'll hit the charts.

Nick looked back at John, who had now lifted his head from the pillow, staring at him.   
"Do you think it's true, Nick?" He asked with a shaky voice. His eyes were all watery, tears still speckled around his cheeks, and his nose was all snotty.  
Nick stared back in horror, then frantically pulled John away from the couch, embracing him.  
"Of course not! I don't think that at all!" Nick said with a raised voice, almost being on the verge of tears himself. John simply sat there, in the arms of his friend. "I'm so sorry this is happening to you John, I thought you'd brush it off… I should've checked in."  
After a minute or two, Nick pulled away, but held John steady.  
"Don't you ever listen to those horrible critics. You're one of the best songwriters I know! And I mean it! You hear me? You're not a bad writer, okay? Those people don't know shit. Are you listening to me, John?" Nick kept reassuring him.

John coughed again, and managed to choke up a small laugh. There was a pause, and then John smiled. "Thanks, Nick."  
At this point Nick started to cry too, and the two men hugged eachother tight. 

They hugged for a long, long time.


End file.
